For Ever
by Face to Face
Summary: PG13, JesusJudas and their history


DISCLAIMER and A/N: Don't own anything except my imagination and a very old computer. Only implied slash but if you don't like it, don't read it

Betraying the man I loved was the hardest thing I ever had to do. He was the only person who had never judged me. I had always been the outcast, the one who stood at the edge and just watched, even when I was a child. Even the other disciples mostly ignored me, unless it was to have a go at me for something I'd said or done, or hadn't done for that matter. But he was different. He actually liked me, even loved me.

The first time that I met him I was down by the river, tending to yet more cuts and bruises I'd picked up at the hands of my father and brothers. He didn't say anything; just came and helped me with the ones I couldn't reach. He had the gentlest hands you could imagine. They were a little rough from the carpentry work he'd done but he did everything he could not to hurt me. When we finished he pushed the stray bits of hair hanging in my face behind my ears and laughed at my amazed expression. He had the bluest eyes I'd ever seen, and this amazing curly blonde hair. I'd never seen anyone like him. I'd been so ashamed of myself when he was tending to me that I hadn't even looked at him but now I just stared. He said "Come with me," so I did. I didn't even look back. I had no reason to. I didn't take anything with me, but then I had nothing to take. There was no one to miss, and no one to miss me. It was better that way; safer. Following this man was about the friendliest thing I'd ever done in my life. I didn't even know why I was doing it. It just felt like the right thing to do.  
He took me back to the place where he and his other followers had set up camp and everyone came up and introduced themselves, but no one looked particularly happy to see me. Jesus didn't seem to notice this though, and even if he did he ignored it. I can't remember much about the first few days I spent with him except that for the first time I was happy. I slept next to him, a little way away from the others, under a tall tree. I still suffered from nightmares, but they were less frequent than they had ever been before, and he was always there to comfort me if I woke and hold me gently in his arms until I drifted off to sleep again.  
It felt like the most natural thing in the world when he kissed me for the first time. We had left the others for a while to get a little peace from all their talk of fighting. I knew he hated it and was getting frustrated so I had suggested that we went for a walk while it was still cool. We didn't end up going far; just to a small pool in the river that we had been following, and there we sat and talked. After a while we went for a swim to cool off as it was turning out to be a very hot day. We didn't need to dry off afterwards; the sun did it for us. I lay with my head in his lap and almost fell asleep as he stroked my forehead absentmindedly. I had my eyes shut when he leant down to kiss me so I wasn't expecting it but it didn't matter. I wasn't able to form coherent thoughts let alone stop it from happening (not that I wanted it to anyway).

After that day we were hardly ever apart. I was always ready to help him if there were too many people hassling him to heal their ills, or to show them another miracle. They didn't understand that he wasn't a machine; that he was only human like them, not the son of God. I didn't know how he was doing what he did, but I knew that he was different from the others, and that he needed protecting. He was older than me by a few years but still he seemed so naïve; as if he thought the world couldn't hurt him. I knew that it could and would if it got the chance, but I wouldn't let that happen.

Things seemed to change when Mary joined us. She was just a common prostitute, but Jesus accepted her as he did with everyone else. The other disciples seemed to assume that she was in love with him, which she was, and also that he was in love with her, which he wasn't. They started to find reasons to keep me away from him more and more often, and to ensure that she was by his side almost all of the time. I wouldn't have minded so much if Jesus hadn't started to become a bit distant with me. I was trying my hardest to keep things the way he wanted them but more often than not he would either ignore it completely or berate me for something I'd said. Afterwards when I had gone for a walk to be by myself he would follow me and tell me that he still loved me. I didn't understand why he was doing it to me so I would just ask him to leave me alone.

Staying away from Jesus, the way they all wanted me to, was probably one of the more stupid things I'd done in my life. It was what pushed us apart. It made me see how wrong things had gone. Even more than before, I could see. He was constantly being harassed by people and, unlike before, I wasn't able to help him. It was Mary that would calm him down and stay with him while he drifted off into a troubled sleep. It should have been me. She didn't understand him the way I did. Whenever I tried to talk to him I was being pushed away and the others would try to convince Jesus that I was trouble, and that he shouldn't listen to me. Unfortunately, it was the other way around.  
I didn't plan to betray Jesus the way that I did. I just wanted help. He needed my help, whether he could see this or not. I went to the priests looking for a way out for him, never believing for one second that it would end in his death.

I couldn't stand still. I was scared. The words were just spilling out of my mouth. I couldn't make them stop. I was running. The priests surrounded me. I was suffocating. Their black robes seemed to cloak them in an aura of invincibility. I resisted. I didn't need their blood money. I didn't want their blood money. Couldn't they see that I was doing this out of love, not for personal gain? Why was I scared? Surely this was what I'd wanted? I wanted to help Jesus. It seemed wrong though. My head told me to do it, but my heart said "No". Surely they understood. I had to do it. All of a sudden my legs couldn't hold me anymore. I sank to my knees. Annas grabbed my hair and pushed me right down onto the floor. It was cold, and it hurt. It was where I belonged. They were standing over me. I could hardly breathe. It felt like I was drowning. I couldn't stop myself. I told them. I shouldn't have. They left without another word and I was alone again. All I could do was cry. I was going to hell for this, and I wouldn't even complain.

He knew that I'd done it. They way he looked at me revealed everything. He liked to think that people couldn't tell what he was thinking, but I could see into his very soul. He knew, and he was scared too. The way he was dragging the evening out was nothing less than torture. I wasn't concentrating much on what he was saying because I was far too preoccupied with other more important things. He was carrying on about wine and blood and completely confusing everyone. They had no clue about what was going to happen. I don't think they had noticed anything wrong because they were shocked when he suddenly burst out and told Peter about what he was going to do. The fool tried to tell him that that would never happen but he couldn't fool me, or Jesus. All that our leader said before had become true, so why shouldn't that? I couldn't bear it anymore when he started hinting that he would be betrayed. None of his other followers would ever have the guts to do a thing like that. I had to make this easier for us both. He had to hate me, and I had to believe in all that I was saying. I even pushed him over. I'd never even laid a finger on him in anger before. It shocked him, and me, but I wasn't expecting how he reacted. He actually fought back, not physically but he made me feel so small. I knew now that I would be able to do it. He had just made his own betrayal possible.

I went out into the town and sat on my own for a while before it was time to meet with the priests. I kept on going over all the times we'd spent together. There were so many memories of him. He had become, without my noticing it, the thing that my world revolved around. He may not be a God, but he was mine, and that was the reason for what I was about to do.  
Annas was the first to see me sitting in the shadows. He came over and practically dragged me to my feet. None of them said a word. Caiaphas just motioned for me to go ahead of him to the Garden of Gethsemane. It was totally quiet when we arrived. There was only Jesus awake. I don't think he could have slept at all. They didn't really need for me to show them who he was. The light around him was almost blinding, but then, I don't think the priests were able see it.  
He must have sensed us watching him because he turned slowly to face us. It nearly broke my heart to see his face. He looked so scared and vulnerable. My feet moved me towards him of their own accord. I didn't have any control over what I was doing. I leant in to kiss him, and my world shattered around me. Stop. I didn't want this after all. No, it wasn't him. Please don't take him away from me. I held onto him, but they dragged us apart. He tried to hold onto me too. He didn't hate me after all. I couldn't make it stop. It wouldn't stop.

They beat him. He was bleeding. He looked so small and so scared. I couldn't save him. I never could. How could I live with this? I had murdered my best friend. I would never be forgiven. There was no way out. I had to do it. I didn't deserve to live. I didn't want to.

He forgave me; God that is. He let me into heaven to wait for Jesus. He explained it to me. He explained why I had to betray him. It was because I loved him that only I could do it. Okay, so I still didn't really understand, but I didn't care. I was forgiven, and I was waiting in paradise for my love to come. Everything was going to be alright. For Ever.


End file.
